Clairvoyant
by Booksactually382
Summary: Ever wonder if Darken Rahl could love? At a time when Rahl's paranoia about the seeker is at its peak, he desperately searches for answer to his future, and he finds Layla. A normal girl from the Midlands, Layla never dreamed her life would lead to anything but becoming a farmer's wife. At least, not until Rahl tells her she has more power than she could have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything included in this story other than my original story and dialogue.**

The sky shone with the brilliant luminescence of a summer sun, and grass wriggled around the boots of Demmin Nass and his soldiers. Less than half a mile away, across a span of rolling hills, sat the seeker and his companions happily munching on pheasant and cheese. Little did they know that Nass's archers had them surrounded and their arrows set to kill. When Nass was ready he would have a flaming arrow shot into the sky to signal the archers to attack.

Nass took a deep breath, only a few seconds lay between him and a world without the seeker.

"NOW!" he shouted, prompting a gruff soldier to launch a flaming arrow above them.

Nass watched as a horde of arrows sprung towards the unsuspecting travellers. He could already imagine the arrows puncturing the flesh of the "legendary heroes". How Lord Rahl would be to hear the news. This would mean yet another triumph under Nass's belt. The arrows converged on the spot where the seeker and his friends had picnicked, but at the last moment they vanished, causing the arrows to zoom past each other before falling lazily to the ground.

Shock crossed Nass's face and he ran full speed for the spot that should have been the death of the seeker. How could they have fooled him so easily, just like so many of his less qualified colleagues? He stooped down to pick up an arrow that had missed its chance just as he had. Clouds had begun to gather as Nass looked across the field. All that was left of his assassination attempt was a pitiful little fire from the flaming arrow that had landed in a patch of dirt a few feet away from him.

* * *

Lord Rahl looked out the window of his castle and watched some children playing in a field just outside the wall to the castle. _Strange,_ he thought, _few children ever come so close to the castle walls_. With a flit of his hand Rahl conjured a crow to go squawk at the children until they ran home. Rahl watched as the children ran from the oversized bird as it pecked at them and screeched in their ears. Rahl turned from the window suddenly bored with the scenery to find his right hand man, Egremont at the door.

"Lord Rahl," Egremont alerted, "Demmin Nass has returned from assignment." Nass moved around Egremont and into the room kneeling a few feet in front of Darken Rahl. Rahl already knew Nass had failed on his mission; his eyes swam with self-loathing and fear.

"Well?" Darken Rahl prompted the trembling man before him, "Did you succeed in capturing the seeker?'

Demmin Nass looked at the empty space to his left, praying that the seeker were next to him in chains.

"No, my Lord."

"Obviously." Darken Rahl criticized, "The strongest man in my military, renowned for his genius, his ferocity, and his zeal fell victim to the cheap tricks of the seeker and his surly companions." Like so many who'd been fooled before him. _How could I let such a coward lead my men_? In one swift motion Rahl floated in front of Nass and jammed a dagger into his side, puncturing some important organ. Nass gasped and fell forward on the dagger causing blood to gush up the hilt and onto Rahl's hand. Disgusted with Nass's weakness, Rahl shoved the withered body to the floor without flinching.

Rahl grabbed a quill from his desk in the corner and knelt next to Nass's twitching body. He wet the quill in Nass's blood and handed it to Egremont.

"Get a message to the Mord-Sith that they should get their newest trainee to join their ranks ready for her first assignment." Rahl commanded

"Yes, Lord Rahl." Egremont turned to write in the journey book.

"Egremont" Rahl called his right hand.

"Yes, Lord Rahl."

"Dispose of the General," Rahl instructed, "his services won't be needed anymore." Rahl walked out the door, leaving Nass on the floor gasping for breath and clutching his wound until he would eventually bleed out and face the underworld.

Rahl entered his empty room and headed straight for the basin to wash off his hands. The clear water turned a rosy pink as he plunged his hand into it. Funny how water could wash away the bloodiest of messes and washed away imperfections. Rahl wished earnestly that he could do that in his own life. Maybe then he wouldn't face so much antagonism against him.

Once his hands were cleaned of Nass's blood, Darken Rahl dressed for bed. He climbed into the cold bed, ignorant to the emptiness in his life, and the war it was starting inside of him.

* * *

Rahl awoke in a grassy clearing surrounded by trees with bugs zooming past his ears and the scent of lavender drifting in the wind. His fine robes were gone. Instead he was dressed in scratchy peasant garb and what smelled like leather from some recently dead animal. The sun had started to set and the hint of stars were starting to form in the sky. Rahl stood and saw there were large stones marking the edge of the clearing. He ran to the small stone table in the middle of the clearing, but before he got there he was blown back by some force and knocked to the ground. Darken Rahl stood again and turned to see a spirit of a woman dressed in silver standing behind him.

"Who-"

"This is a warning Darken Rahl," the woman's voice bellowed as if it carried the sound of a thousand voices, "You will be your own destroyer."

"What does that mean?" Rahl inquired, wondering how he could destroy himself if he trusted no one but himself.

"You cannot help it. Your loneliness will lead to your demise. Your greediness will tear a rift in your soul. Your riches will suffocate your authority. You need no seeker to bring you to your end. You will do it on your own."

"But how-" Before he could finish the woman had vanished and Darken Rahl had been left in the clearing on his own to wonder about the meaning of her message. Rahl walked to the center of the clearing where a stone table stood. Before much time had passed, he heard the crunching of leaves under footsteps coming from the woods. Rahl reached for where he kept his sword, but it was gone too. He ran to exit the clearing, but before he could reach the edge he came face to face with himself, dressed not in peasant clothes but his fine red robes, and wielding a sword, pointed at Rahl. Darken Rahl stepped backward in retreat until his doppelganger had him pinned on the stone table. He looked straight into his own eyes and saw the anger and mistrust, but underneath it he saw fear of the very thing the woman had warned against. Rahl heard the woman's voice one more time before his mirror-image plunged a sword into his heart.

"Your loneliness will be what ends your reign."

Darken Rahl woke covered in sweat and tangled in a mass of sheets and pillows. Rahl had never been concerned with loneliness before. He had everything he needed. For several minutes, he sat on the edge of the bed contemplating the meaning of the woman's warning.

"I have more important things to worry about." he told himself before standing, but a small part of him started to wonder if there was any truth to the woman's warning.


	2. Chapter 2

The winter was always the hardest time for Layla's family. The hearth was weaker and the deer more scarce meaning more colds and less food on the table. She remembered growing up her father would take her older brother hunting in the winter because he needed the extra help, and a younger eye. This year Layla joined her older brother on the hunt. Their father had been gone for four years now, and this winter Will needed her help more than ever since he had a baby due in a few short months.

 _Great,_ Layla though when she heard the news, _another mouth to feed._ They had a hard enough time getting food for Layla's four younger sisters as it was. _Will just had to go getting his wife pregnant._

Truth was that Layla didn't mind hunting. It certainly better than being cooped up inside unable to do anything, but she didn't really feel like she was that much help either. Will just got so caught up in the hunt, and twice now he had left her, with no warning, to follow deer tracks she couldn't even see in the snow. He kept saying she'd get better, all she needed to do was focus. Either way Layla was all he had. There was no way Viviane could go hunting while she was carrying his child, and none of the other sisters were old enough to brave the cold snow.

 _Besides_ , Will reassured himself looking at his sister clutching a bow in her right hand, _if Layla still couldn't find a husband at least she'd be able to get food for herself._

Even though Layla wasn't the best hunter she came home just as exhausted as the men and - after scarfing down the food Viviane tried to make - she went straight to bed for the next nine hours. This was much to the disappointment of Layla's youngest sister, Fern, who revelled in the bedtime stories Layla told her. Once the winds chilled, Layla went out hunting with Will more and more frequently, leaving Fern to listen to the less imaginative stories of Aunt Viviane.

One morning Will had to shake his sister for five minutes before she even showed the slightest intention of waking. Will was starting to reconsider whether or not it was a good idea to keep taking her with him.

"Layla," Will said softly, "Why don't you stay home today? I can go on my own."

A confused look crossed Layla's drowsy face, and she nodded at him but didn't really understand what he was saying. Then she looked at Fern nestled under her arm and sucking her thumb.

"I'm up," Layla said rolling out of the small bed, "Just let me get dressed."

Layla stretched as she grabbed the worn outfit Will had given her for hunting. She had decided that the best part of hunting with her older brother was that she got to enjoy the freedom of wearing pants.

Layla joined her brother outside and rubbed her hands together furiously. Will's cheeks had already turning a bright pink to match the color on the tip of his nose. Layla felt the tips of her ears go cold as the brisk air threatened to blow her auburn hair into her face. The siblings marched towards the woods with determination. The ground was particularly dry that morning, and everything seemed to snap and crack under their feet, scaring away any animals that might make a nice dinner. Layla crouched by her brother's side as they peered through the trees at the one turkey they had managed not to scare away yet.

"I want you to get this one," Will whispered.

"What?" Layla whispered back sharply, making the turkey turn its grisly head. Layla lowered her voice, "I'm not ready."

"Shh," Will reminded her, "You can do this. Just focus."

Layla readied her bow, pointing the tip of her arrow right where the beast's neck me its feathery chest. She exhaled slowly. Millions of thoughts ran through her head. _I don't want to mess up. If I scare this one off we might not to be able to find anything else today. And the potatoes didn't look too good when we left this morning. I've gotta kill the bastard._ Holding her breath Layla loosed an arrow, and a loud squeal escaped the turkey's mutilated throat.

"Good job, Layla," Will said as he moved towards the beast's writhing body, "You didn't kill it, but you got close." Layla winced as Will snapped its neck ending the pain Layla had caused. Maybe that was why she was such a poor hunter. She really hated having to kill the poor creatures even though she knew why it had to be done.

The two siblings' heads whipped around as they heard a rustling just beyond the next patch of trees. Layla looked at her brother and knew he wanted to go and see what it was. Maybe it was another turkey they could use to sell for some extra cash. Quickly, Will tied the turkey's feet together and hoisted the dead bird over his back.

"Let's check it out." Will said excitedly.

Layla followed her brother closely, not wanting to lose him, until he suddenly stopped.

"Hey," she complained as she bumped into him. "Lo-"

Will whipped around and put his hand over his sister's mouth to hush her. She could see the fear in his eyes. She had never seen a look like that on his face before. He must have seen something bad; something worse than any animal they could find in the woods.

"Turn around and go home," Will said handing her the turkey corpse, "Lock the doors and don't let anyone in." Will meant to fight whatever it was by himself, and judging by the look on his face when he saw the monster, she wasn't sure he could handle it on his own.

"Nonsens-" Will cut her off

"Layla," Will said as the creature emerged from the trees behind, "Don't argue with me." But it was too late, Layla was staring at the woman who stood behind her brother with the intent to kill.

The woman's red leather looked like blood against the white snow that fell on the trees, and her ferocious smile hinted at the blood she was aching to spill. Without a word the Mord-Sith lunged at the cold hunters . Layla heard a scream escape her lips, but the Mord-Sith was advancing quickly, and was already raising her agiel. She felt her body move as she pushed her older brother out of the way, and was met with the most unbelievable amount of pain on her cheek where the agiel struck her. The pain from the agiel was so intense that she barely felt anything when the Mord-Sith jammed her knee into Layla's diaphragm and shoved her into the snow. She struggled to get into a sitting position, but she was knew she had to get up when she heard Will's grunts of pain. Layla used a tree to pull herself up and she saw her brother's eyes close as the Mord-Sith knocked him unconscious with the end of her agiel. Layla lunged for the woman, grabbing her by the long dark braid, and yanked so hard she fell back to the ground. Before she could stand again, the Mord-Sith pulled her up by the hair and dragged her across the field.

"You're a persistent one aren't you?" The Mord-Sith cooed. She knew exactly how to handle persistence. She shoved the girl into the snow and thrust the agiel into her side until she passed out from the pain. The last thing she would see was her brother being dragged away through the snow.


	3. Chapter 3

Layla woke to a sting as a wet tongue met her cheek. She groaned as all the pain rushed back into her body. She opened her eyes to see the drooling jowls of her family's hound dog as he continued to sniff and lick her face. She pushed herself up in the snow, and rubbed her forehead in an attempt to relieve the fuzzy cotton feeling she felt in her temple. Then it all came rushing back to her in a flurry. Her brother. The Mord-Sith. Layla launched into a sprint ignoring her aching toes. She had to get back home. She had to make sure her sisters were all right.

She ran back thinking about the bows being yanked from their hair and the innocence being forced out of them and replaced with the vigor and ferocity of a Mord-Sith. Thin branches scratched her face as she ran haphazardly through the trees, and the pathetic hound dog panted as he followed at her heels. By the time the house came into sight Layla could feel the blood throbbing in her feet and her fingers had frozen into a cramped fist.

She burst through the kitchen door and stood there panting as all eight of her beautiful little sisters' eyes glared back at her. She stood there unbelieving and just stared. Maybe she had imagined the whole thing. There was no Mord-Sith tormenting her family, and everyone looked to be in perfect health. She looked back through the door she had left open to see if Will was behind her, but there was only the empty path riddled with her own footprints. She turned to her younger sisters and scanned each one looking for bruises or cuts and she found nothing.

"Thank the creator," Layla exhaled before hugging each of her sisters in turn.

"What is going on?" Dorothy asked as Layla wrapped her arms around the inquisitive eleven year old. But Layla didn't hear her. All she could hear were her thoughts saying _thank the creator my sisters are safet_ over and over again. She moved on to the twins squeezing an arm around around each child. She was so relieved they weren't going to have the imagination beat out of them. Lilith would get to keep dreaming about handsome princes and Violet would continue to have faith in her fairy godmother. When Layla felt a tug on her leg, she turned to see her youngest sister, Fern, behind her. She scooped the little bundle into her arms and clung to the child.

Viviane walked into room with one hand resting on her protrusive belly. "What is going on?" She asked as she closed the door. "Where is Will?" Layla hadn't realized it, but large tears had streaked down her face as she held little baby Fern in a tight embrace. When Layla saw Viviane's face as she asked about her missing husband she started to bawl. Gargled words escaped from her mouth as she attempted to tell what happened to Will. But the girls just stared at her unable to make sense of the sentences entangled with sobs.

Layla locked eyes with Viviane, and saw the scared look in her eyes. She took several deep breaths, and the entire story burst from her mouth as if it was one long sentence. Viviane's eyes took on a pained look when she heard her husband had been taken by the Mord-Sith, but only for a moment. Layla watched as Viviane's concern turned into resolve. Times had always been hard, but they had new problems to face now. It was ever realistic Dorothy who pointed that out.

"What are we going to do without Will?" Dorothy wondered, "We need him." And she was right.

The sun was starting to set, and she realized that Will had already been gone all day. There was no catching up to the Mord-Sith who was probably already halfway to...wherever it was she was taking Will. Layla could tell Fern was getting sleepy as she sat in her lap.

"There is nothing we can do right now. Why don't we all go to bed, and tomorrow morning we'll try and figure something out." Layla had been out in the snow most of the day, and now that she was warm again she was starting to get the feeling back in her muscles and all the pain came back with it.

She helped all the girls into bed; wrapping them in blankets and telling them stories so they might sleep a little better. But the entire time she was thinking about Will. She replayed the scene over and over again in her head, imagining what she could have done to stop it, and thinking that if she was a better hunter maybe none of this would have happened. She left the girls in their room and went to make sure the door was bolted just in case the Mord-Sith tried to come back for one of the girls. Viviane was standing by the window and she turned towards Layla when she entered. Layla stood there trying to find something to say until Viviane came up and hugged her.

"It was not your fault," she said bringing tears to Layla's eyes.

* * *

When Will woke he could only see the scratchy covering over his eyes. He tried to move, but his hands were shackled to the wall behind him. He yanked on the chains, trying to free them from their hold on the wall.

"No use," He heard a scratchy voice from the other side of the cell, "Those shackles will never come off. Not without a key anyway."

Will sighed. His entire body hurt from where the woman beat him, but his head ached the most. It was as if a heavy weight were pressing on the back of his skull. He heard chains rattle from the other side of the cell as the other man moved closer to him. Will felt a hand on his shoulder as his cellmate lifted the blindfold from his eyes.

First, Will saw the craggly toenails and dirty feet of the wrinkled old man. His hands were in shackles, but they weren't chained to the wall like Will's were, and he had a long gray beard which had dirt and grime in it.

"That's better isn't it?" the old man inquired with a smile.

Will took in his surroundings; a dirty floor and dirty walls with barely any daylight seeping through the crack under the door. The only decorations were mouse droppings and human waste. Will grimaced and the stench which accompanied his new home.

"I think I might have preferred the blindfold." Will replied staring at his dismal surroundings.

"Ah," the old man said as he slowly returned to a sitting position on other side of the small cell, "you're a pessimist. They never make very good company. But still better than no company at all."

Will tried to smile at the old man's kindness, but his jaw hurt so it turned into more of a snarl. The old man's friendliness reminded Will of his father, who was always trying to make you laugh no matter how grim the situation. Will looked down at his hands which were cracked and bloody, and he was taken back to that moment in the woods right before he blacked out. He had been hunting in the woods with Layla.

 _Did the Mord-Sith take her too?_

Will started fidgeting with his hands replaying the scene in his mind. He remembered watching helplessly as that woman beat his little sister.

 _Why'd she go and push me out of the way. Sometimes she did the stupidest things_.

He winced as he recalled the look on Layla's face when she tried to pushed herself out of the snow. It wasn't just the pain that had kept him from protecting her, but more so the fear. Pain could wound a man, but fear could cripple him.

"So what's your story?" the old man broke Will from his reverie.

"What?"

"Your story. How'd you get in here?"

Will didn't really know how to answer that question. He hadn't done anything wrong, or at least he didn't think he had.

"Honestly," Will replied, "I don't even know where here is."

"Ah," the old man began, "Welcome to the People's Palace. Or rather the dungeon of the People's Palace. Place of captivity, torture, and misery."

"The People's Palace?" Will had never been outside of his hometown, let alone outside of the Midlands, but to be taken all the way to the heart of D'Hara. He was in for more than he had ever asked for. "Why?"

"I don't know." the old man looked surprised at the question, "Did you do something to anger Darken Rahl? No, he'd have killed you by now if that was it."

"What?" Will was in shock, "Darken Rahl? What would the ruler of D'Hara want with me?"

"I don't know" the old man started.

The men both stopped talking as they heard footsteps approach the cell door. The sound of jangling keys came from the other side of the door as a Mord-Sith twisted the key in the lock.

"But it looks like we're about to find out."


	4. Chapter 4

It had been three days since Will went missing, and there still had been no sign of any Mord-Sith coming to collect one of her sisters. Layla was sitting by the fire with the rest of her family. She had been up all morning with Viviane whose morning sickness had gotten worse without Will. Now they were all just sitting by the fire like nothing had ever happened. The twins were braiding each other's hair and Dorothy was deep in a new book while fern bounced on Viviane's knees.

"Enough of this," Layla stood abruptly, "I'm going after him." She turned on her heel and marched into her room to start packing a bag for the road. Viviane sighed before rising from her seat to follow her.

"You can't go after him." Viviane insisted, "We need you here."

"You'll do fine without me." Layla assured her, "I already checked with the Silversters and they'll share their extra food with you so long as you watch their youngest during the day."

"Forget the food." Viviane's voice started to rise in volume and pitch, "What about your mother. She'll be devastated. We still haven't told her about Will. If she loses both of you it'll kill her."

Layla sighed. She had always worried about her mother, but maybe it was time to be more realistic. Be more like Will. "She is practically senile." Layla cringed as she said the next words to come out of her mouth, "Besides, we need Will more than we need her. I'm leaving tomorrow morning whether you like it or not."

Viviane stepped back as though she had been slapped across the face. Her jaw set and she reevaluated her argument, "If you can't get Will back, and we lose you too, then what?" Viviane voice rose even louder and her next sentence came out just below a yell, "Huh, What do we do then? Do we just starve?"

"Look," Layla turned and stood right in Viviane's face, "Viv, I can't just sit here and wait for something to happen. You want him back don't you? And I am the only one of us that can go out looking for him. Unless you want your baby to grow up without a father, I suggest you let me go."

They both stood there for a second neither wanting to back off first, until they heard Fern cry from the other room. Viviane knew there was no changing Layla's mind, and turned to leave and find out what little Fern needed.

"Layla," Viviane whispered, her voice tempered by shame.

"Yes?"

"Just," Viviane started, "Ask Clem to go with you. There is no reason you should go by yourself."

Layla sighed again and looked up to the sky as though asking the creator why she was going through this. Layla did not want to drag more people into this, but she had to admit that she couldn't do this on her own.

"Okay, I will." Layla reassured her, "And don't worry. I'll be back before you know it."

* * *

The next day Layla headed to Clement's house. The morning air was brisk, but spring would be coming soon. The woodland creatures had started to pop out and run across the ground, especially when the sun was just coming out. Layla had been to Clement's house hundreds of times. Clement was Will's best friend growing up, so he was always around. When she was 11 she developed an enormous crush on him, and a small part of her girlish self will always pine for him. More than anything else he had become a dependable friend. She and Will both needed a friend they could rely on when their father was away. Especially since there mother had never recovered from her husband's absence.

When she got there, and knocked there was no answer. She paced back and forth waiting for someone to get home. She walked around back and found the small garden Clem's mother had started after he was born. There wasn't much there, just a few crops the family could use for food. She knelt by the fragile stalks and stroked the green leaves.

Once, Clement's mother had told him that singing to plants helped them grow faster. He had been waiting for the potatoes and carrots to grow so that he could have his favorite stew, but he was impatient as a child. Clement had run to Will and Layla's house and dragged them over to the small garden. The three of them had sat in the dirt for hours singing to the plants. Everyone who walked by had stared and giggled, but Clement had been determined that by the end of the week he would have his stew. The next day Layla had woken up and run to his house to check on the plants, but they had gone. She had knocked the door, and Clem had answered with that toothy grin and had told her the plants had grown and his mother had just finished making the stew. They had sat and gobbled that stew together tasting their hard work.

Layla smiled remembering their broth covered chins and sticky hands. She stood and walked around to the front of the house again, and saw Clement walking up the dirt path. Of course he was fully grown now, but he he still had that toothy smile.

"Clem!" she yelled running up to meet him.

"Layla," Clement answered, "I was just at the market. Is everything alright?"

"No," she answered hesitantly, "It's Will. I'm guessing you've heard by now that he's gone missing." Clement nodded. Then he saw the old bag slung over Layla's left shoulder and the grim look on her face.

"You're going after him?" Clement asked incredulously, "Layla, you can't. It's madness. You could be killed or kidnapped or robbed before you even get close to finding him.

"I have to go." Layla said looking straight into Clem's blue eyes "We need him. I can't let that child be born without it's father. And you can't stop me." Layla pushed past him and started walking down the dirt road.

"Wait!" Clement wet his lips, and ran up behind her, "Do you even know where he's gone?"

Layla didn't know much about the Mord-Sith, except that they took the girls in their town, and did the bidding of Darken Rahl. Layla figured that if they Mord-Sith wanted one of her sisters they'd have taken them already. She just hoped she was right, because if she wasn't then she was leaving her family completely unprotected.

"I don't know," Layla responded, "But if I go to the People's Palace maybe I can find out where they might have taken him and why. I mean, the Mord-Sith act as servants to Rahl, so he must know what happened to Will."

Clement stayed quiet. Layla could tell by the furrow of his brow that he was trying to analyze the possible outcomes of this course of action.

"You know he'll probably just have you arrested for heresy or something like that."

Clement answered very seriously.

"I don't have a choice." Layla said with determination and turned to face Clement. "Viv wants me to take you with me, but it would be better if you stayed to watch after the girls in case the Mord-Sith come back. I can do this on my own."

You're kidding yourself if you think I'm letting you do this by yourself." Clement broke eye contact and added, "I mean, he was my best friend, and just as much my brother as he was yours. So there is no way you're leaving me behind."

Layla smiled at Clement's moment of transparency. There was a warmth in her stomach that made her wonder if she really had gotten over that girlish crush of hers.

"That's all fine," Layla said suddenly very serious again, "but someone still needs to watch over the girls. Just in case the Mord-Sith comes back for them. I couldn't live with myself if I knew I'd left them completely unprotected."

"Easy solution," Clement smiled smoothly and winked, "I'll get my father to keep an eye on them." Layla nodded in approval a smile threatening on the corners of her mouth.

"Besides there is no way you'd get there on your own." Clement joked shooting for a full on smile from Layla, "You need my navigational skills otherwise you'd end up in Aydindril."

Layla did smile, and she knew that she'd need Clement with her. Not just for his navigational talents, but also so she wouldn't get too wrapped up in worry and fear.


	5. Chapter 5

Will had waited in the room for hours. The cold stone penetrated the bottoms of his feet as he stood in the center of the room unwilling to move. The room was obviously used by Lord Rahl himself, as the rich curtains and expensive decorations that stared down at him identified, but there was no place to sit. Clearly this wasn't a room where Darken Rahl came to relax, which made Will even more nervous.

The Mord-Sith who had taken him from his cell hadn't left either. She was just standing by the door, staring at him. It was as though she was daring him to try and escape. Will wasn't sure whether or not he should say something.

Will opened his mouth to speak, but his vocal cords froze when Darken Rahl entered the room. He couldn't even manage a squeak.

Darken Rahl entered the room followed by another Mord-Sith and his right hand, Egremont. Will felt his legs start to wobble as he stared at the man in red robes. He had never seen a man more fearsome. Many would fear his wealth and power alone, but for Will it was the eyes. Lord Rahl had eyes that told you he wasn't afraid to do anything, because he had already done worse.

Will had to force himself to look away. Rahl circled Will a few times, wondering if the cowering man before him could really be the key to his future. Rahl took in the sight of Will's trembling legs and his quaking figure and whispered to Egremont in hushed tones. Will started to feel more and more like a stray dog who waited while two humans decided whether or not to keep it.

"Is your name Will Gervonshire?" Darken Rahl asked regally.

Will flinched when he heard his name, but was unable to respond. Although he wanted to conquer the fear that overpowered him, and bust his way out of the D'haran fortress his body wouldn't move.

"Egremont," Darken Rahl sighed, but his eyes never changed emotion. His face was eternally matter of fact. Either something was worth his time or it wasn't, "Are you sure _this_ is the man."

"Unfortunately, my lord," Egremont said equally disappointed with the fear stricken fellow in front of them, "There is no doubt. This is the man you were looking for."

"I am going to ask you this one more time." Darken Rahl instructed. After a moment her added, "If you do not cooperate I will have no choice but to kill you. I need answers or I have no use for you."

Darken Rahl waited for confirmation from the trembling form in front of him, but Will did not move. Rahl looked at Egremont with serious doubt, but the general just nodded.

"What is your name?" Rahl asked for the final time, but Will just stood there trembling. His lips started to quaver, but without the guarantee that air would escape his lips Darken Rahl was unimpressed. Rahl Drew a dagger from his hilt and in two steps he was 2 inches from Will. Just before he would have slit the man's wrist, he heard a small squeak escaped the figure. Rahl waited for the man to continue.

"Yes," Will said. He swallowed before looking Darken Rahl straight in the eyes, "my name is William Gervonshire."

"Yes," Darken Rahl hissed. Will saw an flicker of amusement pass through his stone cold expression. "I thought so. William Gervonshire, you grew up in the town of Stowecroft. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Will kept his eye on Rahl's left hand. He still hadn't put away the dagger, "I did."

"And you have four sisters?"

Will wasn't sure if he should respond. _Why would Darken Rahl want to know about my sisters?_ Will's thought were interrupted by a sharp pain across his cheek as the Mord-Sith struck him with her agiel. Darken Rahl stood with his hands crossed behind his back watching Will expectantly.

"Five," Will's voice was indignant, but a sharp look from Darken Rahl made him reconsider. "my Lord." he added submissively.

Rahl passed over the information as though it was of no importance to him, but Will saw the glint in his eye when he corrected him. Somehow Will was a step ahead. He wasn't sure what of, but he knew something Rahl didn't.

"And you're recently married?" Rahl questioned, "What is her name?"  
Will hesitated before realizing there was no point in hiding information Rahl already knew. "My wife's name is Viviane." Will paused, "Please...p-p-please don't hurt them. They've done nothing wrong."

"Don't worry. Your family will be just fine. As long as you cooperate." Rahl looked away from Will. There was a certain look on Will's face that Rahl didn't appreciate. "Do you have a name yet?'

"A name?"

"For your child?" Rahl specified, mocking Will, "Your wife is pregnant. Is she not?"

"How do you know all of this?" Will inquired. Rahl saw his jaw start to tremble, and he knew he struck home.

Rahl turned and looked Will straight in the eye, "Will, we've been watching you for weeks." his voice purred with a torturous venom, "You didn't think my Mord-Sith just picked you out of the blue and brought you to the People's Palace for no reason? You are here for a very specific purpose, my boy."

Will stood there petrified. Of course when the Mord-Sith showed up he thought he'd be taken to their temple and they'd go after one of the twins and train them to kill him. He had never imagined he'd wind up in the People's Palace with a personal interrogation with Darken Rahl.

"Is it," Will hesitated. He still didn't know whether or not his father was alive, and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. "Is it about my father?"

Darken Rahl looked taken aback, and then he started to chuckle, but only slightly. With a smile on his lips Rahl lifted his head and looked right into Will's eyes. He was looking for something his brown eyes, but he didn't see it there. Maybe Will Gervonshire wasn't who Rahl had been looking for.

"Your father was wormfood long before I even knew you existed." Rahl delivered the line without remorse or sympathy.

"He's dead?" Will asked like a child.

"Yes," Darken Rahl replied unsympathetically, "However, I am much more interested to hear about the living members of your family. Tell me about your sister, Layla."

Will hesitated. He had no way of knowing what Darken Rahl wanted to know or what he knew already. However, he had a pretty good idea what Rahl would do if he didn't answer.

"Just promise you won't hurt them."

"I promise." Rahl lied.


	6. Chapter 6

The people's Palace was a three day walk on foot, but luckily Clement's family had some horses since his father was such a fan of riding. On horseback it would be at least twice as fast. Layla walked into the stables were Clement was readying a horse for them to take to the Palace.

"Filbert!" Layla enthused walking up to the chestnut horse and feeding him an apple from her hand. She stroked his head and kissed his nose. "I haven't seen you in a while, old guy. Have you been too busy harassing the lady horses to spend time with me?" Filbert whinnied in response.

"Well now you've gone and offended him." Clement chastised, "You're not _tha_ t old. Huh, buddy? She's just being mean." Clement looked at Layla with a hurt expression on his face.

Layla fed him another apple to prove she wasn't as mean as Clement tried to make her out to be. "Are we almost ready to go? If we leave soon we can be there long before nightfall."

"Ready to go when you are. Just stop feeding him apples or he'll be too fat to move." Clement said jokingly before he climbed on the horse's back.

Layla climbed on behind him, "And you said I was mean, but there you go calling him fat."

Layla held onto Clement's waist as they lurched forward onto the dirt path. They were both surprised how fast Filbert was able to move. They were two towns over by mid afternoon and by night fall they had already arrived at an inn just outside the People's Palace. Layla dismounted and felt a tingle as her legs hit solid ground for the first time in hours. She reached her arms toward the sky and tried to stretch out her tight back. She took Filbert into the inn's stables while Clement got them a room at the inn. She gave the good horse and apple fro getting them to the People's Palace so quickly. As she tied the horse's reins down she noticed the stable boy was watching her with a funny look on his face.

"Can I help you?" Layla asked

"Er...no...um...nevermind." the stable boy stuttered.

"Well, in that case," Layla offered, "How about you get my horse some water and food?"

The boy nodded before running from the stable. Layla glancd at the dirty pail he left on the floor. _How is he supposed to get water without a pail?_ Layla sighed and picked up the pail and got some water for Filbert from the trough outside the stable. She gave the horse a goodbye kiss before following Clement inside the inn.

Layla stopped in her tracks when she walked through the door. The room was full of D'haran soldiers. She scanned between the red and black uniforms until she spotted the green of Clement's shirt. She squeezed between the crowded tables until she was at Clement's side.

"What's going on in here?" She whispered to Clement, "You'd think the entire D'haran army were in here by the looks of it." The men were daunting, but they weren't nearly as terrifying as the Mord-Sith who attacked her and Will.

"I thought the same thing. Maybe there was some sort of training at the Palace," Clement offered.

"Perhaps." Layla said as she scanned the faces of the officers looking for some familiarity. She still never found out what happened to her father after he joined the D'haran army. She used to dream that he'd return one night in his uniform a bonafide general or commander, but he never did.

"Come on," Clement prompted her, "We can get a good meal, and then I got us a room upstairs. I couldn't afford two, but I can sleep on the floor if the bed's too small."

Layla and Clement sat at the only unoccupied table. As she swallowed her bites of bread and sips of wine Layla started to feel as though some of the soldiers were watching them. She eyed a man with a slight beard and green eyes which kept stealing glances at their table. He was balding on top of his head and he had a scar peeking out from under his collar. The longer she sat there, the more she started to feel as though they weren't supposed to be there.

Stupidly, Layla grimaced at the man the next time she caught him glancing at them. After a short word to his comrades, he stood and swaggered over to their table. He had just opened his mouth when a shout came from across the room.

"By the creator!" A scrawny soldier in oversized armor stood by the bar and pointed directly at Layla, "It's her!" Recognition spread across the soldiers' faces.

Clement stood and took Layla's hand, "Let's get out of here." He whispered to her. They tried to run out of the crowded room, but each time they squeezed through a set of soldiers another statue of red and black blocked their path. Layla was grasped by the elbow and yanked into the arms of a soldier.

"Lord Rahl 'ill be wantin' to see you 'mmediately, luv." the large man cackled. Layla was dragged out of the inn and led towards the people's palace. She shouted protests at the men that escorted her and Clement into the palace, but they promptly ignored her.

Women and children came out of their houses to gawk at the spectacle. Beneath the din Layla heard the people hum "It's her" as they whispered between their friends and neighbors. As she was dragged through the gates of the palace, she saw a small paper blowing across her path in the dirt. She yanked herself free and ran a few paces before another soldier pushed her right on top of the paper. She looked at the crumpled page as they hoisted her into an upright position. She saw a crude drawing of her face staring back at her from the page with the word bounty written across the top. The image wasn't a perfect replica; there a few imperfect marks here there that proved the artist had never seen her, but it was her face nonetheless.

Layla tried to lock eyes with Clement so that she might signal him to look at the page, but the soldiers had knocked him unconscious and were literally dragging him into the palace behind her. Whatever she was going into, she would go into it on her own.

* * *

Will and Ervis had started to become really good friends after the time they had spent together in the dingy and wet cell. Ervis told him all these stories about his adventures over the years. Will heard about his escapades with women, a young man with magic more powerful than he could imagine, and a clever escape from the hull of a pirate ship.

"And then," Ervis narrated dramatically, "HE ATE THE BERRIES ANYWAY!"  
"No," Will's voice came out like a whisper, "You're kidding?"

"It's the absolute truth," Ervis said putting his hand to his heart, "Of course, we all thought he would die that very moment. But he just turned to us and said 'Wot is it you dumb hogs are starin' at? Stop lookin' a' me like yuv only jus' seen a naked lady for the first time.' and we all knew he would live."

"Really?" Will asked in shock, "Do you know what happened to him after that?"

"Aye," Ervis's face became more grave, "I went to his funeral two years ago. I hadn't seen him for fifteen years. Not since we had that beer down at the old watering hole." A warm smile spread across Ervis's lips, but before long it turned into a frown again and he looked down at his hands and sighed.

Will didn't know what to say, so he just sat there and said nothing. When he and Ervis weren't talking Will was usually thinking about why he was there, and what Rahl really wanted with him. He hadn't been summoned by the ruler of D'hara since the first interrogation he had with Rahl, but the Mord-Sith who kidnapped him, Triana, had questioned him on several occasions since. He tried to forget the pain of the agiel, and wondered how much longer he would live if Darken Rahl didn't need him anymore. Will felt a pang of regret for answering Rahl's questions about his family.

Before too long the silence was broken by a clamor of shouts from outside. They tried to peek through the small windows, but all they got was the view of some feet and a cloud of dirt in their face. They returned to the floor of the cell coughing.

"What do you suppose is happening?" Will asked Ervis

"I don't know," Ervis responded with a look of consternation on his face, "You don't usually see a fuss like that. People don't like to fight when they're taken to the Palace because they're so afraid of what he'll do to them." They two men debated possible explanations for the excitement, and came up with some outlandish claims.

This time they were too involved in their conversation to hear the boots of the Mord-Sith coming down the hallway. The door opened with a clang, ending their chattering. They stared at the leather clad women as she grabbed Will and yanked him from the ground before pushing him out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

"Ah Will," Darken Rahl hissed menacingly as he slithered toward the trembling body before him, "How kind of you to join me." Rahl delivered the line right before a punch across the face. Blood oozed from Will's left eyebrow as he fell to floor in a heap. Darken Rahl watched Will's arms shake as he tried pushed himself from the ground. Rahl saw the anger in his eyes, but beneath that he saw the fear which was a commonality in the eyes of men that Rahl antagonized. Will broke his gaze first and started staring at the floor.

"Tie him to that chair." Darken Rahl pointed to a wooden chair in the center of the room ordering the Mord-Sith to follow his instruction. Rahl watched speculatively as she pulled Will from the floor and shoved him into an upright position in the chair.

"Well done Triana," Rahl commended, "Your sisters will be quite impressed thus far."

"Yes, Lord Rahl," Triana's voice was strong, but still submissive.

Rahl circled the silent man in the chair before him. His steps were slow. Rahl wanted to take in as much of Will as he could to see if he might still prove useful. _Of course this man wasn't the right one,_ Rahl thought as he took in Will's limp figure. It looked as though Will was so weak the ropes were the only thing holding him upright in the chair. _He could still prove useful yet, so long as he behaved._

"Cut out his tongue," Rahl commanded handing Triana a silver blade.

Will's head shot up abruptly. He looked at Triana with fear in his eyes as she sharpened the dagger just handed to her.

"NO!" Will shouted looking directly at Darken Rahl. Rahl didn't see any more hate in Will's brown eyes. All that was left was fear. "No, don't do this. Please!"

"Poor Will," Rahl said staring right into those fear filled eyes,"Apparently we hadn't been rough enough with you in the beginning,for you're being much more receptive at present. We'll be making up for that mistake now."

Triana advanced towards Will and had just yanked the tongue from his mouth when the door burst open. The tongue slipped back into its owner's mouth and Will head-butted the Mord-Sith as she was distracted. Rahl turned toward the door infuriated by the interruption.

"General," Rahl addressed the interruption without taking his eyes off of Will. He had been empowered by his moment of defiance against Triana and the hate now overpowered the fear in his eyes _._ "If you would wait outside until I call for you. I'm in the middle of a conversation with a dear friend." Rahl could tell the last sentence fueled Will's anger even more.

"You'll want to see this, my Lord." the general said signaling a small group of soldiers to come in escorting a man and a woman. The man had dark brown hair and freckles across his nose. He was slumped over, obviously unconscious, and was being held up at the armpits by two soldiers. The soldiers dropped him on the ground when they entered the room and pushed him against the wall.

"Will!" A young woman's voice shouted, and Darken Rahl saw a blur of deep red hair as the woman lunged toward's his prisoner. The soldiers grabbed her before she had taken two steps, and were struggling to keep hold of her.

"Hold her still," Rahl commanded approaching the two men as they fought to hold her in one place. She stopped when Rahl stepped in front of her, looking him straight in the eye. Her resolve was clear, and Rahl knew she came for a clear reason, and she wasn't going to leave until she accomplished her goal. He looked her up and down, taking in the red curls tamed into a long braid over her right shoulder and the dirt smeared on her left brow from the struggle. The most halting thing were her violet blue eyes. Rahl saw something in them though. It was almost as if they had a smudge on them, like dirty glass. Something blocked her from seeing something she was meant to see. That kind of magic was rare, and he knew immediately that she was the person he had been looking for.

"Ah, who do we have here?" he asked looking to Will, "The wife or the sister?" Rahl circled her, and placed a hand on her flat stomach.

"Don't touch her!" Will shouted. His vitality had been restored. At the sight of his sister and Will seemed to regain his purpose.

"Not the wife. There is no baby in there." Rahl said removing his hand with a sideways glance at the young woman before him. He walked round the room again till he stood at Will's side.

"Tell me, Layla, what brings you to the People's Palace?"

Layla was surprised to hear her own name. Rahl watched emotions pass over the delicate face before him as she worked through the best response.

"I-" Layla's voice cracked and a chuckle rose among the soldiers in the room. A wave of Rahl's hand ordered them to be silent and let her speak. Rahl watched her expectantly. "You know why I'm here," Layla's voice gained strength and she pressed on assertively, "I've come for my brother. He's done nothing wrong or threatened you in any way. You _will_ allow him to come home."

"Will I?" Rahl countered, a chuckled just beneath his own breath. He had never been met with such insurgence, and he found this girl's resolve quite amusing. _What is it about people that makes them so passionate for their family?_ "I've grown quite accustomed to Will's company. Why should I let him go?" Rahl inquired mockingly.

"He has a family in Stowecroft to take care of, and a baby on the way." Layla pressed on, hoping the fearsome ruler might see reason. "Would you deny that child the presence of its own father?"

"It certainly wouldn't be the first time." Rahl said cooly. Layla winced at the jab. She could tell he was referencing the absence of her own father. _How do you reason with a man so heartless?_ She thought trying to come up with some magical solution that would convince Rahl to let Will go.

"He's dead," Will piped up, "Layla, Rahl killed him, and he has been dead this whole time." Will cringed watching the grief cross his sister's face, but her look hardened and her jaw set with determination. She had lost father a long time ago. Knowing was just the first part of the healing process.

"That reminds me," Rahl began a new mantra, and turned to address Triana, "We were in the middle of something weren't we?" Rahl was only halfway through his plan. He had the Gervonshire family right where he wanted them. First, make a mute out of the brother. Then, toss the sister in the dungeon. Third, use the freckled boy as collateral to get her to cooperate. Rahl smirked relishing in the familiar feeling of triumph.

Triana drew the blade again, moving toward Will. She stopped when Rahl held out his hand, demanding she hand him the dagger. Rahl's fingers clenched the silver dagger's hilt as Triana tilted Will's head back. Rahl let the suspense build, waiting for a terrified shriek from the boy's sister.

"Take me instead," Layla's voice was calm as she stepped away from the soldiers on either side of her and into the center of the room. Triana looked at Rahl waiting for his response, but his eyes were firmly locked with Layla's as a silent conversation played out between the two of them.

 _Do you know what you're getting yourself into?_

 _Yes_ , there was no denying the clarity in those violet-blue eyes.

 _You'll have to stay here as long as I decide to keep you here. Are you sure you want to take your brother's place?_

 _Do you doubt me?_

Rahl stepped towards her until there was less than a foot of space between them. There was an unfamiliar anger on Rahl's face. He wasn't used to someone challenging his plans.

"Are you sure of this?" Rahl asked aloud.

"It's me you wanted isn't it?" She countered. He could tell this was her way of confirming what she had already suspected. Rahl wondered if she knew the true extent of her importance.

Darken Rahl leaned over Will's body in the chair and cut his bindings. Will leapt up and in two seconds flat had his sister in an embrace. Soldiers moved to break them apart, but Rahl shot them a look that froze them in their tracks.

"You don't have to do this" Will said in a hushed tone, "You could still run, and I'll stay here with that demon."

"No," Layla said looking up at her older brother. He was her protector for years, but now it was her turn. "It would never stop. He would just send his men after me, and the Creator knows who else would get hurt in the process."

Will kissed her forehead, like any older brother would, and they broke apart. Immediately he was grasped by Triana and they started towards the door.

"Take care of my niece for me!" Layla shouted after them.

"How do you know it's girl?"

"I could just tell." Layla said assuredly, and she moved to a window to watch as Triana shoved him outside the gate and ordered the D'harans to put him on a horse and point him home.

There was a thick silence as Rahl watched Layla's face glide between looks of sorrow and relief while she coped with her brother's departure. Everyone stood still, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.

"What's going on?" Clement said wearily rubbing a growing welt on his forehead as he unfolded into a standing position. They had all forgotten he was there. Layla's determined look returned, and Rahl knew he had to get that boy out of there.

"Take him to the dungeons." Darken Rahl commanded the soldiers who had lost their purpose.

"No," Layla shouted, but the guards ignored her protests and grabbed Clement on both sides. She ran to push the guards off him, but Rahl grabbed her arm as she moved to pass him.

"Let me go," She said, looking at him with eyes wet with tears and full of hatred.

"Take him away," Rahl said tightening his grip.

"You need palace guards. Don't you?" Layla prompted, "Have him instated as an officer rather than having his usefulness rot in your damp prison."

"One thing you'll need to figure out, Layla," Rahl said letting her name hang in the air, "is that I don't take orders from anyone. Put him where her brother was."

"Rahl," Layla was starting to panic, "I don't know why you need me here, but if you want my cooperation I'll need to know my friend is safe, and not getting shivved in some dungeon."

"Next time, you _will_ call me Lord Rahl." He turned to the soldiers who were watching the two negotiate. "Put him to use as the barracks sweeper or something. If he shows potential he shall rise in the ranks naturally, and if not it's back to the dungeon." He said this last bit to Layla before dismissing his men.

Clement mouthed a "thank you" to Layla while Rahl's back was turned. She nodded in response, but as soon as that door closed she knew her life had been changed, for better or worse.


	8. Chapter 8

Layla leaned against a cold stone wall and closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell tumultuously as she replayed the scene of the last few minutes in her head, wondering if she had made a mistake taking her brother's place. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do, but she had a sinking feeling the obstacles before her were about to get much worse. Her mind had frozen when she had to stood up to the tyrant, but something foreign had welled inside of her and took over. A choked sob escaped her, but that was all she would allow. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and slid away from the wall.

"Follow me" Rahl commanded before heading toward the door.

She did as she was told, following Rahl through the door and into the stone hallways of the People's Palace. She walked behind him as he led her through tapestry lined halls and past statue-like guards posted at every exit. Finally they came to a small wooden door with iron finishings. Rahl thrust the wooden portal open and Layla followed him into a quaint bedroom.

Layla followed him in and her eyes filled with wonder. She had never seen a room more elegantly dressed, and yet she imagined it was very modest for palace chambers. There wasn't much space for anything other than a bed, dresser, table, and water basin, but it was larger and more furnished than any bedroom Layla had been in. The bed was dressed in red sheets, and the dresser was made a rich and well-polished wood. Layla opened the dresser expectantly to find some modest dresses. They weren't made of noble silk or sparkling jewels, but the embroidery was quite charming and the material much less coarse than clothes Layla had owned in the past.

"I don't understand," Layla said with a confused look on her face, "I thought you would send me to the dungeon."

"Would you rather stay there?" Rahl said gesturing towards the door, "I can arrange that rather easily."

"No," Layla said quickly regretting her question.

"As it happens," Rahl began a curt explanation, "Our only lady's maid on staff just left since there hasn't been a lady since my mother died. This was her room." Rahl said.

The room was bathed in orange light as rays from the setting sun leaked in through the windows. Layla looked out the windows toward the forest. She spied the path she and Clement had ridden in on, and wondered what happened to Filbert.

"Get some sleep," Rahl delivered the statement like it was a command she was meant to follow, "You'll be needing it to be ready for tomorrow's...activities." Rahl moved towards the door.

"Wait!" Layla said urgently.

Rahl sighed, and wondered if she would ever get the idea that she was supposed to address him properly. _Her manners certainly are lacking._

"What," Rahl asked impatiently. His hand was already on the door, and he was ready to leave. "Is it another ridiculous request?" The irritation was clear in Rahl's expression, but Layla pressed on anyway.

"Why did you put up all those wanted posters with my face on them?" Layla asked quietly, not really sure that she wanted to know.

Rahl's eyes were fixed on the light coming through the window as a small smirk appeared on his face, sending chills up Layla's spine. Without a word, he turned and closed the door behind him. The latch clicked with finality. Layla knew the door would be locked, but she ran to the handle and yanked on it anyway. She watched the sun fall behind the horizon, wondering what would await her in the future.

* * *

Clement's head hit the thin cot with a thud, and the pain reverberated through his already sore body. He could feel the cold stone seeping through the floor beneath the straw padded excuse for a bed. It was his second day on the job, and already he could feel his spine crunching into a hunchbacked form.

Although, one person already knew his name. Well, sort of. Clement had been cleaning the mess hall after the soldiers left the barracks, and one of the men noticed he was new.

"Eh," the man grunted addressing Clement, "You're new ain't ya?"

"I guess you could say that." Clement said stupidly.

"Right," the red and black hulk of muscle turned to leave before turning back to ask Clement his name.

"Clem," he responded cheerfully.

"You missed a spot, Clark."

"Actually it's…" Clement trailed off as he realized the man wasn't stopping to listen. Clem just turned back to the dirty floor to pick up the rotting apple cores and greasy bones from turkey legs that the soldiers had discarded. He grabbed a badly dented plate and turned towards the scrawny old man that was cleaning with him.

"What do you suppose the plate did to deserve this cruel punishment?" Clem said jokingly to his elder. The old man just looked at him. A pained expression peeked through the wrinkled face and gray beard. It was then that one of the commanding officers came into the room.

"No use trying to talk to him. He won't talk back. He is a mute." The officer had tanned skin and a small, pudgy beard which framed his round face.

"Oh," Clem said feeling infinitely smaller by the minute.

"Heard you wanted a position as a palace guard." The officer stated, straightening his back with pride.

"Errr," Clem debilitated, "I suppose so."

The officer looked at Clement wondering if this halfhearted answer meant this boy wasn't worth his time. "Do you want to end up like him?" The officer asked gesturing to the old man who twitched as he picked up another apple core from the ground.

Clement thought about scraping off the floor for the rest his life. _I suppose I don't want that_. He thought.

"No, sir"

"You start training tomorrow. Captain Malray will wake you in the morning" The officer delivered the next line like a death sentence, "If you don't show D'Haran-worthy potential in the next week, then you'll be stuck scrubbing dishes for eternity."

The officer turned and marched toward the door with his cape billowing behind him. Clem swallowed, feeling the panic rise in his throat.

"Oh," The officer tossed back over his shoulder, "And I should warn you that Captain Malray is not one for jokes."

Clem swallowed again.


	9. Chapter 9

It was midmorning, and Viviane had just brought the girls in from the garden to make lunch. She was slicing carrots when she heard a horse neigh from outside. She sighed as Lilith and Violet crowded by the window giggling about knights and bandits.

"Girls," Viviane scolded them, "You shouldn't get your hopes up about knights in shining armor. That is not the way the world works." Viviane's eyes welled up as she thought of Will. He had been _her_ knight in shining armor, even if he didn't have a glistening sword.

The girls continued giggling, and Viviane turned to chastise them once more. She used to dream like them, but now she thought that kind of hope only got you hurt.

"But, Viv..." the girls whined.

"No buts," Viviane insisted, "Come set the table for lunch."

Just then the wooden door blew open and a tall and gangly figure burst through the doorway. Viviane felt strong arms around her as those familiar lips met hers. Viviane pulled Will closer to her and pushed her hands up his back. Will grunted with pain when she hit a sore spot on his shoulder blade.

"Sorry," Viviane whispered momentarily ignoring the injury, "Wait! Are you hurt?" She asked, alarm rising in her voice.

"I'm fine," Will said reassuringly, but she had already seen his face, peppered with bruises. Will smiled back at her.

"You're not fine," Viviane insisted and sat him in a chair so she could tend to his wounds, but as soon as he was child level he was bombarded with hugs from his younger sisters, all except the one he had to leave behind.

"Where is Layla?" Fern asked with a trembling voice piquing the interest of the other girls who started to repeat the question. Will looked urgently to his wife for help explaining her absence. Viviane had a hand to her mouth in shock.

"Layla, um…" Will fumbled for an answer. _All that time on a horse and I couldn't thought of a single damn reason she didn't come back with me._ "Um...Well, you see...the thing is...Layla is a big girl now...um...and she is going to stay in D'hara for while." Will cringed inwardly when he said this.

The girls just stared at Will.

"Why?" Fern asked petulantly.

"Because Darken Rahl invited her too." Will said, grimacing as he thought of the way that monster looked at his sister.

"But she won't have any fun with him," the twins protested, "Layla was supposed to play dragons with us!"

"I'm sure she'll have lots of fun, and get to go to fancy parties and wear pretty dresses and all that," Will's growing lie was making his stomach tie in knots, "And she'll tell you all about it when she gets back."

The girls sighed unanimously in response. Viviane gathered the girls up and sent them to play outside while she finished lunch.

"Is Layla really alright?" Viviane asked curiously.

"She'll be okay," Will told her everything that happened and how his younger sister bravery proved she could make it through anything, "She took my place, but there was something that Rahl wanted her for. He forced me to tell an artist what she looked like so he could make wanted posters and put them all over D'hara."

"But what would Darken Rahl want with Layla?"

"I don't know," Will's face grew more serious, "But we have bigger problems, Viv. They know where we live. We've got to move the girl's somewhere safe."

Viviane didn't like the idea, but she nodded in agreement, "We can take them to my mother's just outside of Aydindril. It should be safe there."

"Alright," Will didn't have any better ideas, "We'll be gone by the end of the week."

The two locked eyes and each saw a mirror of the emotions they felt whirling inside them. Fear. Anger. Confusion. Love. Viviane reached up and kissed him, running her hands through his hair as Will's arms wrapped around her waist, and lifted her from the ground onto the table.

The soft scratching of footsteps shuffled behind Will. He turned, a smile still on his face, fully expecting to see a mud covered little girl sucking her thumb, but his mother stood there with a haggard and broken look on her face. She turned her head slowly making eye contact with her son.

"Where's my daughter?" If the woman had any tears left she have been crying, "Where's Layla?"


	10. Chapter 10

Layla woke with thick cold enveloping her. The silky sheets and soft bed should have helped her stay warm, but a chill spread through her entire body every time she thought of the pained that flashed on her brother's face when Rahl looked at him. With a groan she rolled out of the bed, and her toes clenched as her feet hit the cold stone floor. She drew a robe over her shoulders and began to pace the room.

She had been locked in the room for three days. Every few hours a middle-aged woman with a well worn apron would come to her room with a hot meal, and tight lips. Layla peered out the door when she came and saw two guards, still as statues, posted on either side. No matter how many questions she asked no one would give her a straight answer about the palace, Rahl, or her reason for being there. She was itching to leave the room and get a breath of fresh air. Layla cracked the window and made her way to the small table where she had some charcoal and parchment spread out. She picked up a stub of charcoal and clumsily smudged the image of a flower onto the page.

Layla stared at the crumbling black lines and wondered how she had gotten here. She used to dream of going on wild adventures as a kid, but she never could have imagined the series of events which brought her to the stone cold room she sat in now. A chilly wind slithered through the cracked window and goosebumps popped up on her skin. Layla shivered and poked at the dwindling fire in frustration, but the dull embers only flickered as their spark died. The dark clouds pushed another cool breeze into the room causing the weak flames to flicker even more. Layla attacked the windows as if they stood open in personal defiance against. After slamming them closed she threw herself onto the bed and exhaled a deep long sigh.

"Well," A sinister velvet voice lofted across the room, "The mood in here is rather somber."

"Oh," Layla said, sitting up, but not facing Rahl, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were supposed to have an extravagant celebration when you were locked in solitude." Layla turned to see Rahl's arrogant smirk wilt and was replace itself with a dissatisfied frown.

"Enough of that," Rahl commanded, "Your sarcastic remarks are not appreciated in my company. Besides, you said you would cooperate."

"That would be much easier if I knew what you needed my cooperation for." Layla asserted.

"This way." Rahl delivered the command like the two words alone answered all her questions. Layla slid from the bed and rushed to follow him out the door. She stared at the guards as she passed them, but they maintained their positions dutifully.

Again Rahl weaved through a web of hallways before they came to a small door in one of the highest parts of the palace. Layla followed him through into a large open room with glass windows across most of the walls and ceiling. The walls met at odd intervals, giving the room a not quite octagonal appearance. Her footsteps had a slight echo as she trailed into the center of the room. She stared through the skylight at the gray-blue sky that hung overhead. Her gaze dropped to the horizon. She felt as though, on a clearer day, she'd have been able to see the whole of D'hara from that room.

"Do you know what a prophet is, Layla?" Rahl inquired.

"A magical being who can tell and decipher prophecies." Layla answered half-heartedly. Her mind was still focused on the scenery through the window.

"Have you ever met one?"

"Of course not." Layla looked at him as though he were crazy.

"Hmm..." Rahl turned to a table in the corner and began to page through a book, "There is legend of a tribe of women who lived, thousands of years ago, near where the border now stands between D'Hara and the Midlands. These women had a special gift; they could tell a man his future."

"I've never heard such a legend," Layla countered.

"No," Rahl turned his head over his shoulder to look at her, "I don't suppose you would have. This was a legend that died out long ago. After these women were blinded and lost their power there wasn't much of a legend to share."

"Why would anyone want to blind them?" Layla asked.

"Such powers can be very dangerous," The corners of Rahl's mouth lifted slightly, "Especially in the wrong hands. Many scholars believe that these women were hunted down and killed by a jealous king who was disappointed with his fortune."

"I don't understand why you're telling me all of this," Layla stated indignantly. She didn't like the way Rahl's eyes watched her. His eye contact was so intense it was almost like he was looking through her.

"Inside this book," Rahl said, pointing to the mass of yellowed pages that sat open on the table, "There is a different story about these women. The women grew weary of telling people's futures, especially since so many went away disappointed with news that they'd never be rich or would never fall in love. And so the women blinded themselves, so that they wouldn't have to face the demands of the people."

"Well that's just depressing," Layla said, playing with a loose string on the hem of her sleeve.

"Of course," Rahl turned to Layla and lifted her face so their eyes met, demanding her full attention, "that is all a tall tale meant to mask a deeper, darker secret." She pulled her face from his hand and walked to the windows, staring out towards the fields and forests.

"It is my theory that a spell was placed on these women," Rahl pressed on, "A sort of binding spell which would suppress their powers, so they were no longer a burden."

"So what?!" Layla exploded, "You keep telling me this story, but if they're all blind and dead anyway, then what does it have to do with me?!"

"You still don't get it do you?" Rahl's cruel voice mocked, "These women had children who had children, who had children after that and so on. Each of these children passed on that same suppressed traits those tribes women passed onto them, but none of them ever knew because of the binding spell."

Layla said nothing. Her mind was working hard, trying to connect Rahl's words to that suspicion building up inside her, but she didn't want to believe it.

"Tell me Layla," Rahl asked with mock sincerity, "Have you ever had a gut feeling that danger was coming before it did? Or a dream one night that inexplicably came true the next day?" All this was just fodder Rahl was feeding her to make her believe the truth.  
"Stop it," Layla muttered, and Rahl silenced himself. He waited for her to pose a question, knowing very well that he had her where he wanted her.

"Why me? How did you know?"

"It was your eyes," Rahl said calmly, "The first time I saw you, there was a glint of something foreign. Something murky that was blocking you from seeing something you were born to see, and it's still there." Rahl brushed a stray curl from her face, "And I can make it go away," he whispered in her ear.

Layla thought about it. She thought about everything. She thought about her sisters back home. She thought about Will and Viviane. She thought about Clem. She thought about about the life she was born into. The life she was had been living, up until now. A life lacking adventure or excitement, and, for the first time, she realized she didn't fit into that life, and that life didn't fit her. She was being pulled in a different direction, away from the sisters she loved and the life she left behind, towards Rahl's tempting promise to make her whole.

"Do it," Layla exhaled.


	11. Chapter 11

Clem panted as he ran up and down the barrack's stairs. He could hear Captain Malray's shouting from the bottom of the steps.

"Keep it moving!" The graying man hollered, "If you want to be fit to serve, then you'll have to be able to keep up your stamina when defending the palace!"

Clem dropped off the last step, and did 30 pushups before hopping into a standing position, and darting up the staircase. All he had to do was run all the way up and down again, and then he could break for lunch. He thought of a thick slice of meat as he reached the highest point of the barracks. By the time he reached the bottom, he was no longer thinking of food. All he could think of was water.

"Decent," Malray said, trying not to sound too impressed. Clem just panted in response, and caught the canteen of water his captain tossed to him. He was too exhausted to realize that this was his moment of truth. The wheels were turning in Malray's head as he calculated whether or not Clem would be a valuable addition to the D'Haran ranks.

At the beginning of the week Clem had found the obstacles in front of him severely daunting, but, although the training wore him out, his improvement was enough to get him out of clean up duty. The question was whether or not Malray could see that.

"I think you did well enough," Malray said with a grunt, "We'll continue your training with the other new recruits next week."

Clem looked at him wide-eyed. He technically _had_ gotten what he had been working for, but he just realized that meant he would be doing more ridiculously challenging training exercises. He straightened up, feeling the need to kiss more ass than he ever had before.  
"Yes, sir," Clem could hear the ring of a true soldier in his voice, and he hated it.

* * *

There was a small stone table in the middle of the room that reminded Layla of a sacrificial altar. Of course she had been assured that the stone slab served no such purpose, but when she layed down on it she couldn't help but feel like a lamb brought up for slaughter.

"Try to relax," Rahl said as he brushed her braid off her left shoulder. Layla was disturbed with his familiarity, but she had more important things to worry about at present. Rahl glanced at the book one more time before returning to the table. "Close your eyes."

Layla closed her eyes. She could feel his hand hovering over her eyelids. Rahl chanted a few phrases which were totally foreign to Layla, and before she knew it, she was commanded to open her eyes again.

"That's it?" she said, pulling herself into an upright position on the stone slab.

"That's it," Rahl assured her.

"No voices in my head or bursts of light or celestial voices warning me not misuse such power?" Layla was surprised. She didn't feel any different, and she didn't even know how to use this power. "Are you sure it worked?" She asked doubtfully.

Rahl leaned closer to her and searched her violet-blue eyes for the clouded appearance of a binding spell, but they were perfectly clear. _Actually her eyes are much prettier this way_ Rahl thought in a moment of innocence.

Before he could look away he felt Layla's hands grasp his wrists, and suddenly his eyes were locked to her gaze. Rahl felt her looking through him as she peered into parts of him that _he_ couldn't even see. The magic was overpowering and made Rahl helpless to look at anything but her eyes. Layla's grip tightened and her eyes started to flick around in their sockets as if she was looking at a thousand images at once. Layla's nails dug into Rahl's skin and when she finally let Rahl go there were little red crescent marks on his pale wrists.

"What the hell was that?" Rahl asked surprised that she had caught him off guard.

"I-I don't know," Layla slid off the stone table and began pacing about the room. "One minute, I'm just sitting there, and then my hands kinda take over and…" Layla trials off, remembering what she saw when she looked into Rahl's future.

"Well," Rahl prompted urgently. "What did you see?" His voices sounded calm, but Layla could hear the anger threatening to burst if she didn't tell him.

"I-" Layla paused. This was the first time Rahl had seen her look afraid. He watched her as she paced towards the window. She stood there, frozen, except for the rapid tapping of her foot on the stone floor.

Layla knew she couldn't tell him the truth. He wouldn't believe her anyway. She had to figure out what he wanted to know and give him an answer he _would_ believe. She knew what she had to do to secure her future no matter what. She turned towards Rahl, and she knew that she finally had the advantage.

"You want to know about the Seeker's quest?" Layla asked, Rahl's surprised look confirmed her guess. "And what will happen once I tell you? Once you have the information you need, you'll just chuck me into your prison, won't you?"

"I can assure you that a ruler always has need for the ability to see into the future." Rahl's voice was syrupy and Layla didn't trust it.

"No, Rahl," Layla's voice rose slightly in volume, "I'm not just going to be some toy you pull out when you need me. I'll work for you, but you're not going to just lock me in that room and refuse to pay me. If I am going to be living here, I want to be able to explore and make it my home."

Rahl's smug smile drooped and his brows furrowed. The anger she saw as Rahl clenched his fists told her she would get what she wanted.

"Keep in mind, Layla," Rahl hissed, "that I do know where to find your family now. At a moment's notice I can have a fleet of D'Haran soldiers knocking on their door."

"You could do that," Layla stepped away from the window and towards Rahl, "but you still won't have your answer. Does the Seeker kill you? Or doesn't he? Will the great Lord Rahl's reign come to an end at the hands of a simple farm boy? You won't have your answer until you agree to my terms." She walked up to Rahl, and looked up straight into his eyes. "I'm not asking for much, Rahl, just enough to make my life here bearable."

"Alright," Rahl exhaled, "But I will be there to escort you when you feel the urge to explore. I don't want you going around telling the servants how they're going to die or what their children's names will be."

"That's all fine, but I think you're forgetting something." Layla sassed and popped her hip to the side. Now it was her turn to be smug.

"And you'll be payed a very _minimal_ fee." Rahl was starting to feel a bit like he was dealing with a child.

"Deal," Layla smiled as they shook hands,

"Tell me." Rahl said curtly, "What did you see?"

"I don't know whether or not the Seeker fails in his quest. The vision was too fast, and I didn't get any specifics."

"What?" Rahl exclaimed. Layla saw all the muscles in Rahl's body tighten and the vein in his forehead start to bulge.

"Hold on," Layla said, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him, "I don't know anything specific about the Seeker, because the vision only showed me y _our_ future. I do know that you live a very long life as the ruler of D'Hara. Meaning the seeker doesn't kill you." Layla watched Rahl's forehead smooth while hel regained his composure. Orange light began to filter in through the window as the sun began its descent.

"There is something else I should tell you though." Layla said softly.

"Go on," Rahl said with that eerily calm voice again.

"There is a small portion of time in your future that is blank. There isn't anything to see. It's almost as if you don't exist for about a year." Layla bit her lower lip as she said this, worried how Rahl would take it.

Rahl smirked. He knew what that meant, and he knew that meant the Seeker's work would all be in vain.


	12. Chapter 12

Layla was glad to return to the safety and comfort of her room. Relief flooded her body when she heard the soft click of the door as it closed. Her body collapsed against the back of the door. How twisted it was that the room which had been a restraint was now her escape. She just couldn't act the same way about Rahl after what she saw. A deep groan vibrated in her throat. She was glad to have control of her hands again. The magic still coursed in her veins like a child just woken and ready to play.

Layla closed her eyes and tried to make sense of what she saw. The vision was fast and unclear. It was as though she was looking at thousands of images at one time. She hadn't just seen Rahl's future; the vision showed Layla's future with him. She had only seen their interactions and their lives. The images that flashed in her mind created a deeper reaction in her gut which stuck with her as she separated herself from the door and began to pace the room.

There was no way to tell Rahl what she had seen. When the vision had finished she had panicked. All she could remember where flashes from the barrage of images she had seen. His fingers as they pushed the hair behind her ear. The warmth of having him by her side. The look of his eyes when she caught him watching her. She had seen her entire future with Rahl condensed into three minutes, and she wasn't sure what to think.

One image stuck in her mind above the others. She saw herself, gray-haired and wrinkled, at an aged Rahl's bedside. She held his hand as his breathing labored. She felt something knot in her stomach as he closed his eyes for the last time. Even now, looking back on the vision, Layla struggled to define that feeling. Her future self squeezed the cold hand as the sound of children's timid footsteps came into the room. She turned to see three red headed children standing in the door.

That was the only event that she could remember; everything else was just a jumble of images. She was glad that the vision didn't give her any straightforward predictions about the future. She'd have missed the little surprises in life.

When she looked at the Rahl in front of her, he was irritating and aggressive as before, but she had that memory of another Rahl. One that would love her and care for her until the day he died.

Layla stopped pacing. What if the vision was wrong? What if a Rahl like that won't ever really exist? Layla realized that she had to change her future, and she had to do it fast.

There was a scratching sound from the door as a note slid under the door. Layla got from the bed and read the note

 _Layla,_

 _Things are going well in the barracks. I'm going through training now. There is something you should know. Rahl's men are restless. I think some of the palace guards are discontent with the way they are being treated. I don't think we should stay here long. I'll try and find a way to get us home soon._

 _-Clem_

She tucked the note in the cover of a book. Even though the vision was clear Layla was starting to wonder if she _could_ change that future. Either way, Clem was right. She needed to get of here.


	13. Chapter 13

Layla was shaken awake early the next morning by one of the guards. He jostled her bed unapologetically making the entire frame shake. She jumped from the bed startled as the grogginess quickly left her.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Lord Rahl wants to see you," the guard said unfeelingly.

"He couldn't wait until the sun came up?" Layla asked rhetorically as she stared out the window at the dark sky. She drew a robe around her shoulders as a cold breeze leaked in through a crack in the window she couldn't manage to stop up. The room was still just as cold and unwelcoming.

"No," the guard didn't seem any happier than she did to be up so early,

"Fine," the word sounded aggressive and hopeless, "Let me get changed."

"He said to come as you are," The guard said grabbing Layla by the elbow and pulling her into the hall.

He prodded her towards the stairs which led down to the dungeon. The steps were dark and cold. They felt like ice on Layla's bare feet. At the bottom of the steps was a small room with a medium sized wooden door on the wall opposite the staircase. About a foot in front of the door stood an iron grate spread from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. The door in the grate had three locks which ran up it, two from the outside, and one from the inside.

Layla approached the gate with caution as the guard escorting her talked with the guards that stood between the gate and the door. The men floundered with the locks, until, finally, the gate was opened. Layla was pushed through and locked in on the other side. She looked back to see her escort turning to go back up the stairs.

One of the other men took her through the wooden door and into a corridor lined with cells. At the end of the corridor was another corridor, and a flight of stairs. The two of them descended these stairs to another, smaller wooden door with a face sized grated window cut into it. Yet another of Rahl's minions peered through the grate before opening the door. Layla was prodded inside, and again the door was locked behind her.

The cold pervaded, matching the chilling tension hanging in the air. The only light came from a few small candles placed on tables around the room. When her eyes adjusted she saw a freshly beaten man piled in a heap and chained to a grate on the floor. They had attempted to clean up his mess of a face, probably for her her sake, but it was no use. The was a clump of swollen flesh where his right eye should have been and a thick gash on his fat, bruised lip.

"Layla," Rahl's voice cooed. Her head snapped away from the bloodied man and toward Rahl. She hadn't realized he was standing behind the man until he spoke.

"Who is this?" Layla asked, her tired mind still processing, "And why-?"

"You don't need to know that," Rahl said casually, "I need you to read him." He stood still, watching layla with his hands clasped behind him as he waited for a response.

"No." She said

"You said you'd work for me." Rahl's eyes glistened with the threat of what would happen if she didn't obey.

"Not like this. Not with a man beaten and tied to the ground."

"You don't control the circumstances, Layla." Rahl advanced toward her, stepping over the bloodied heap on the floor, and kicking it in the side as he passed by

"Stop that" Her voice wavered.

"Stop what?" Rahl feigned a look of innocence

"Saying my name like that. Kicking an already beaten man."

"I don't know what you mean? Layla-" He had that look in his eye that she hated.

"Just stop! You don't have to do this! Why do you have to be so cruel? What are you really getting out of all this?"

Silence hung in the air like the sound following the slam of the executioner's ax. Layla looked away from Rahl's stone cold face. She knew there was some emotion under that surface, but she was just unable to see it. So she looked at her dirty toes instead.

"You shouldn't feel bad for him you know"

"What?" Layla asked, looking at the half conscious clump in front of her.

"He's selfish and a womanizer. Not worth your concern."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. I just thought it might realign your intentions."

Rahl waited for a response. He knew she was thinking it over. Ultimately, she didn't have much of a choice.

"Keep in mind Layla," Rahl said looking at her sideways from his eyes, "If you don't cooperate I can have an entire troop of D'haran soldiers by your family's doorstep by sunrise."

"Fine" Layla agreed rigidly, swallowing her pride and kneeling by the bloody heap. Before she could help him up, one of Rahl's soldiers yanked him into a sitting position.

"Gentler next time," Layla said, glaring at the soldier. She turned to the man now sitting across from her. His eyes fluttered and his head lobbed from side to side. Layla turned towards Rahl with an anxious face.

"Rahl, I don't think I can read him. He's hardly conscious. Who knows what it might do to him?"

"Just do it." Rahl turned Layla's shoulders back towards the man. His voice was calm, but beneath it laid the threatening rage. "I don't care what it does to him."

Layla reached for the man's forearm, but no vision grasped her. She couldn't get a good hold on the man's arms and all she felt was cool iron where his wrists should have been. She looked into the man's eyes. They weren't exactly lucid, but he wasn't in a trance either.

"I think the shackles are blocking the magic." Layla looked up at Rahl, "You have to unlock them." Layla saw Rahl's eyebrows crease, and she knew he didn't like the idea.

"We don't have a choice, Rahl," Layla insisted, "If you want me to read him you have to unlock the chains." Rahl waited a moment before signaling the same soldier to take the man's bindings.

Once removed, Layla reached for the man's wrists once again. This time the vision was immediate.

She saw the man, with a black eye and a scabbed lip, sneaking through a crowded market. He ducks into a small shack and waits. There is a knife at his throat, and a rank breath in his ear. "Where is the plan? How do we get into the People's Palace." The man's arm was still weak from his beating, and it trembled as it held up a letter which contained the plans for Rahl's assassination, "I hope he burns".

The vision started to fade, but as it did Layla felt the man's resolve growing stronger. This vision was different. She wasn't alone in the vision, the man was there too. When the vision faded, Layla stared into the man's eyes and knew he saw just as much as she did. Neither of them looked away until the man lunged for her. He pressed her into the ground and squeezed her throat. She gasped for air while Rahl and the soldier in the room tried in vain to pull the man off her. Layla felt her lungs go dry and before long everything was black.


	14. Chapter 14

Layla woke, and she felt pain everywhere. Her eyes were throbbing. Her back ached. And the half of her throat that she could feel felt like she had swallowed a hundred tiny sharp rocks. She groaned as she tried to roll over in her bed before realizing that was a bad idea.

"I wouldn't move too much if I were you." a velvety voice warned. Layla still hadn't opened her eyes they hurt so bad, but when she did she saw Rahl standing by the window gazing at the cloudy sky.

A pathetic and scratchy squeak escaped Layla's mouth when she tried to speak.

"I wouldn't talk too much either," Rahl said, ushering a servant in who set a cup of hot tea by Layla's bed. The kind old woman rearranged Layla's pillows and helped Layla sit up and drink the tea. The liquid warmed her whole inside, and it occurred to Layla that was the warmest she had felt in that room so far.

"I'm sorry about last night." Surprised by the apology, Layla turned to look at Rahl quicker than she should have, for a sharp pain shot through her stiff neck and sore back. She winced, but Rahl was still focused on the sky.

"If I had known that was going to happen I wouldn't have rushed the reading. But still..." Rahl turned to face her now. His face was serious and she could tell there was no avoiding the question that was going to follow, "Layla, I have to know if you saw anything." he looked at Layla with such earnest that she actually felt a pang of sympathy for him.

She nodded slowly and carefully this time, but she couldn't keep the pain from registering on her face. She saw Rahl's shoulders tighten almost imperceptibly.

"What-" Layla croaked. She took another sip of tea, "What was that all about? Who-?" Her voice was scratchy, and she only had enough air for those few words. Rahl sighed, not wanting to have to explain himself, but he could tell by looking at Layla that he owed her an explanation. The surprising thing was that he actually cared.

"That was Prince Fyren." Rahl began his explanation. Layla sipped at her tea as she listened. "He was an ally of mine, but recently I've suspected that he's been plotting against me. Interrogation and torture didn't work. You were my last option."

"Get me something to write with," Layla instructed. She could tell Rahl didn't like the way she said it, like a command instead of a question, but he held back for her. He handed her a piece of parchment and a chunk of charcoal from the desk. Layla scribbled a few words on the page and showed it to Rahl. It read:

 _You're right. You can't trust him._

Rahl sighed deeply and paced the room. His face was stone cold, but Layla saw a hint of worry lying beneath the surface. Soon enough a grin started to curl up on his face.

"What are you going to do?" Layla asked, not sure she really wanted to know.

"Don't worry," Rahl smirked, "That poor bastard won't live to see the next sunrise.

* * *

A few hours later, Layla heard a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," her weak voice croaked. Clem wiggled through the door with a sympathetic smile on his face. Layla giggled inwardly at the shy little wave he gave with his hand.

"Hey." Clem sat at the end of her bed. His left leg rested right on top of her toes, but it was warming her cold little toes, so she didn't say anything, "How are you feeling?" Clem asked shyly.

"Better," Layla lied. Her throat still throbbed and her eyes felt like two huge cotton balls. She couldn't even look at her reflection, because every time she did all she saw were the finger-like bruises on her neck. "How have you been?" Layla tried to change the subject.

"Training has been...challenging, but I think I'm really starting to impress." Layla could tell they had been working him hard. Clem was always fit, but his face was more defined and his arms were bulky with muscle. "Listen, I have to talk to you." Layla managed to sit up a bit straighter, and she nodded for Clem to continue.

"Listen, some of the new trainees are getting restless. Apparently not everyone is thrilled with Darken Rahl's imperious rule." Clem took a deep sigh before moving on, "I don't think we should stay here for very long. With word of the Seeker on the rise, it won't be too long until there is an uprising, and who knows who might get caught in the crossfire." Clem's shoulders relaxed once he had finished.

"I see," Layla took a minute to gather her voice before continuing. "Do you have a plan?" She asked.

"Not exactly," Clem began, "Of course we have to wait until you're fully healed, and then we have to figure out an escape route. But I think I can get us out, so long as we time it right."

"It sounds risky."

"I know," Clem said, touching Layla's knees as reassurance. "But we don't have a choice if you want to see your sisters again."

Layla nodded. She missed her younger sisters, but the thought of not getting to see them grow up was too painful to think about.

"I'm in," Layla agreed, and took a deep breath before continuing. "I'll try to help you come up with a plan, but Rahl's watching me constantly."

"Don't worry about it," Clem smiled, "I'll take care of the logistics. See if you can get close to Rahl, and maybe find some useful information." Layla nodded, and Clem rose to leave.

"Be careful," Layla's voice wavered at the end. Clem leaned over to fix the pillows that were holding Layla up. Their eyes met as he pulled away, and he paused to kiss Layla on the forehead.

"I will," Clem said earnestly.

Layla watched as the door closed behind him, and she was left alone in the cold room with just her thoughts.

 **A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to say thanks for reading this so far. I hope you're enjoying it because there is more to come ;) Please feel free to comment and lemme know what you guys think! Also if you guys like Oblivion you should check out my lil sis's new story called UnFree. It's just the first chapter so far, but it'll take you back to those days when the scamps were rampant and the arena was shouting your name.**


	15. Chapter 15

Darken Rahl's feet thundered as he paced around the small room where he kept his journey book. He had just received news from the Mord-Sith that Denna had captured the seeker, but that wasn't what he was thinking about. His anger at Prince Fyren consumed him. He plotted a public execution as he thought of how Fyren had betrayed him. He planned to humiliate the fallen prince as he considered how the smug bastard thought he had bested the ruler of D'hara. Rahl thought of Layla's bruised neck and gaunt face. He was fuming when Egremont entered the room to inform him that the executioner wasn't to return until the next evening.

"I don't care!" Rahl raged, "get me any fool that can pull a lever! I want to see that man on the noose by sunrise." He slammed the journey book closed with an echoing thud.

Egremont nodded sheepishly, "Yessir, I'll ask among the men." He had never seen Rahl like this before. Sure he was demanding and harsh, but usually he kept his temper in line and hid his anger behind solid stoicism.

"Good," Rahl sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Have the gallows set up by dawn. I want everyone in attendance."

"Yes, my lord." Egremont swallowed. "Even the fortune teller?"

"No," Rahl sighed. "Let her rest. She is still too weak to see that."

"Yes, my lord."

Rahl exited the room with a nod, leaving Egremont alone to wonder about the ruler of D'Hara's change in demeanor. If he didn't know any better…

Rahl walked the palace halls until he came to the dark door of his father's old bedroom. His hand rested on the handle, but he couldn't bring himself to twist it open. He stayed like that for several minutes. His father still haunted him. It was true what people said - that he had killed his own father as a teenager. But they didn't understand. Panis Rahl was evil, and Darken Rahl just couldn't live with it any longer. Besides, he ruled D'Hara better anyway.

Rahl lifted his hand from the metal handle and stormed down the hall. He paused as he passed by Layla's room.

"Any visitors?" Rahl asked the guards posted outside.

"Tha' new recruit came in tuh see 'er," the soldier turned to his counterpart, "What wuz 'is name? Clark? Cameron?"

"Wadn't it Clem?" the other soldier offered.

Rahl recognized that name. It was the boy that came with Layla from her home village. He was surprised they had decided to train him. I guess she was right about his talent. Rahl thought with a smirk.

"When was he here?" Rahl asked.

"Dis aft'noon. She's asleep now, my lord."

Rahl nodded and asked the guards to unlock the door. He opened it a crack and peered in to see Layla's sleeping face. Her red hair glowed in the moonlight which seeped through the window. He closed the door, happy to see she was getting some rest, and had the guards lock it again.

Rahl returned to his own bedroom and thought of the satisfaction of waking in a few hours to the execution of Prince Fyren. He thought of his revenge for the traitor before falling asleep. But then the dreams came.

* * *

A soft breeze brushed Rahl's face and grass tickled his ears. He opened his eyes to see a blue sky masked by clouds. He sat up to find he was in that same clearing. The stone table still lay in the middle, and trees loomed around him on the edges of the circular meadow. Rahl stood and glared into the entwining branches. He thought he heard whispers coming from all around him. He edged closer to the branches, and he thought he saw a figure hidden just in the shadows. The figure was small, it looked like a young boy, but then it began to grow. It grew and grew until it was the size of a full grown man.

"Who's there?" Rahl questioned assertively, "Show yourself!"

A man, no older than 20, emerged from the woods. His immaculate physique and leather vest reflected his outdoorsy nature. He had a noble sense about him, and an honest look which revealed his compassion. Rahl didn't need him to draw the Sword of Truth in order to know this was the seeker.

Darken Rahl dodged the swing of the Seeker's sword, but he didn't have a weapon of his own to fight with. He kept dodging until he saw the hilt of a silver dagger protruding from the stone altar. He lunged for it but was cut off by the silver of the Seeker's inscribed sword. He pushed the Seeker out of the way and grabbed the dagger with both fists and yanked it from the stone.

Rahl turned on the seeker, who stood a few feet away with his sword ready and threw the dagger into his chest. It sunk in with a satisfying thud, but when Rahl blinked it was no longer the Seeker standing before him, but Layla.

She stood there with a look of shock on her face as blood oozed from the wound where the dagger hit her. Rahl ran to her as she crumpled to the floor. His hand brushed her hair which was rested in his lap, and he watched as the life fluttered out of her eyes. He felt something wrenching in his chest, like a throbbing panic. His throat closed and his heart kept beating faster and faster. It wasn't until he woke up that he realized he hadn't been breathing.

Rahl sat and stared at his bare ceiling for many minutes after his dream. His heart was still beating furiously and his throat was dry and sore. He rose from his bed and thrust open the curtains to see an early morning sky. Egremont knocked on the door before entering.

"My lord," Egremont addressed Rahl servilely, "There is a matter of urgency which needs your attention."

"What is it, Egremont?" Rahl spat, rubbing his temples.

"I-It's Prince Fyren," Egremont was almost babbling, which was a shame. It was so hard to find a good right hand. "He's gone."


	16. Chapter 16

Layla woke just before morning to a loud clatter coming from outside one of the windows. She slumped out of bed and dragged her feet to the window, but all the grogginess left her when she saw a man crawling out one of the windows below her.

Her room was situated only two stories from the ground and the shadowy figure had knocked over a barrel and a shovel in the process of shimmying out of the palace. Before long another figure emerged from the same whole as the first man. The two men began to approach the woods just as a woman in white came running from the trees. She joined the two men in the shadows and the three conversed quietly. There was a rustling in the woods and they all froze. The three stepped cautiously into the moonlight. One of the men was clearly a D'haran soldier, who had just gotten off guard duty. The other was dressed in rags and bruises, and looked vaguely familiar. It wasn't until he turned to look back at the castle that she recognized him as Prince Fyren, the man whose future Rahl had forced her to predict.

Layla smiled as Fyren hugged the D'haran soldier who had helped him to escape. Little did he know he wasn't just escaping Rahl, but he was escaping death. Layla looked once again at the woman in white, wondering if she was one of those confessors she had heard so much about. Her blonde hair shone along with her dress as she stepped from the shadows. She said a few words to the soldier before grabbing Fyren's hand and pulling him into the woods.

The soldier was dressed head to toe in D'haran issue armor, but it wasn't until he removed his helmet that Layla recognized him as her dear friend Clem. She gasped, wondering what he was doing jeopardizing their chances at escape by helping smuggle the highest profile prisoner out of the palace. Ultimately, she was happy Fyren got away. If her predictions were accurate then soon enough he would be plotting an assassination attempt on Rahl, and she and Clem could get out of that cursed castle a little sooner.

She turned quickly from the window, grabbed a piece of parchment and crumpled it around a clump of cold remains from her fireplace. She returned to the window and crumpled the paper around the charcoal before throwing it at his head.

* * *

Clem winced as a small object hit him in the back of the head. He turned to see a bunch of closed windows peering at him. He looked at the grass around him and saw a crumpled piece of parchment lying on the ground. He picked it up and hurried back into the palace. He stood under a torch light and opened the crinkly note which read:

Good Job

-L

Clem folded the note and tucked it into his armor. He walked back to the barracks, took off his armor, and climbed into bed. He smiled as he saw small rays of sunlight starting to creep through the windows.

* * *

Rahl had always gotten what he wanted, but not from being spoiled as much as his fierce determination and power. He paced just inside the glass doors that led to the massive balcony from which he addressed his people. He longed to see the legs of that putrid prince kicking as he hung from the noose. He grinned just thinking about the look he'd soon see on Fyren's face as his guards walked him to the gallows. This kind of vindictive rage always brought a smile to Rahl's face. But as swept up in passionate anger as Rahl normally was, he still went to bed at night with an emptiness inside.

Rahl peered through the window at the crowd awaiting his execution speech and wondered what his country would have been like if he hadn't killed his father all that time ago. He brushed off the thought as Egremont entered with a series of guards.

"Ah," Rahl's amused voice bellowed throughout the hall, "Egremont. Is everything in order? I'm ready to see that damned prince's neck snap."

"My Lord," it was one of the guards who spoke, "There seems to have been a mix up at the watch…" the guard trailed off, ringing his hands as Rahl's smile faded into a grimace.

"Spit it out!" Rahl's muscles began to clench as he lost his calm and content demeanor.

"Fyren is gone. We don't know how, but he's escaped." The guard spoke quickly nearly tripping over his own words.

Rahl let out a loud scream and slammed his fists onto the wooden table. Hot wax spilled onto the wood as the candles shook from the force of the impact. Rahl's breath was ragged and harsh. He stood and walked slowly over to the guard who gave him the news. Locking eyes with Egremont, Rahl thrust his sword into the nameless soldier whose body slumped to the floor.

"Get me my journey book." Rahl demanded.

Egremont bowed before retrieving the leather clad pieces of parchment.

Rahl let out another yell, more pained than the first, contracting his middle as he did so. His clenched fists over his eyes. When he finally stood, he had regained his composure and began to wonder why he had let some slimy pig like Fyren bother him so much. He looked at his bloodied hands and realized it wasn't Fyren at all, but that stupid girl. The second he saw Fyren lunge at her he had wanted to ring that bastard's neck. Rahl's eyes lost focus and he heard his knife clatter to the floor. He realized now how ridiculous he had been. _How could I have let myself get this carried away by some girl?_ These were feelings Rahl knew needed to be eradicated. She was just another tool, not a distraction to keep him from extinguishing the Seeker.

Rahl knew what he needed to do. Get the Seeker into the People's Palace, so he could have Layla read him and then be rid of her. If Rahl knew the Seeker's future, then he would have his ultimate enemy's future and always be one step ahead. Then he could get rid of that girlish distraction and move on with his plan for D'Hara.

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry, it has been so long since I last posted. I got stuck on this last chapter and wrote it about 50 different ways before I decided to put it down for a while. But I finally just sat down, and knocked it out.


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